| How can I then return in happy plight, |
| That am debarr'd the benefit of rest? |
| When day's oppression is not eased by night, |
| But day by night, and night by day, oppress'd? |
| And each, though enemies to either's reign, |
| Do in consent shake hands to torture me; |
| The one by toil, the other to complain |
| How far I toil, still farther off from thee. |
| I tell the day, to please them thou art bright |
| And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven: |
| So flatter I the swart-complexion'd night, |
| When sparkling stars twire not thou gild'st the even. |
| But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer |
| And night doth nightly make grief's strength seem stronger. |
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